forever bitter b/c the moment motherfucking drama queen sirius black chose to find his Chill™ was that precise second when his desperate, distraught, despondent godson asked him to explain thoroughly and in detail how exactly it was that his mother and father got together because his mother OBVIOUSLY hated his father.
Alternative ‘nah, she didn’t’ canon-plausible Sirius reactions:
grabbing Floo Harry by the shoulders and saying, “harry, your mum loved your dad as much as i loved my motorbike.”
listing places he caught them snogging
giving an overly detailed three hour oral history of their romance
or a three minute oral history in musical form
harry, has anyone had the talk with you? do you know what sexual tension is? (remus: sit down, sirius.)
reciting from memory the half written sonnet james had started for lily for seventh year valentine’s day, which he made the fatal mistake of chucking in the bin for sirius to find instead of burning it to erase all evidence
forcing remus to be lily and doing a dramatic reenactment of james proposing
Harry was a one year old madman and his parents loved it.
Everything was a curiosity to explore, a mess to be made, a joke to be
discovered. This Halloween, his second, had been no exception.
One year prior, James and Lily had mutually insisted on
celebrating Halloween because it was their son’s first proper holiday. Harry
didn’t do much more than coo at his parents while they carved pumpkins,
decorated the house, and played spooky songs.
Today, however, had been perfect.
He’d giggled madly at the paper bats Lily enchanted, and spent
all morning on his broomstick, zooming after them. When he caught them, he’d immediately
burst into tears until she reworked the charm, and the game could begin again.
In the end they were crumpled balls, not recognizable as bats at all, but it
made no difference to Harry.
Uncle Padfoot had dropped off a pumpkin that stood as tall as
his godson and Harry skipped naptime to carve it. They spent the afternoon sat on
the kitchen floor, James and Lily laughing and their toddler tried to eat the
pumpkin guts. He scrunched his face in distaste before slinging them all over
the floor.
The commotion had attracted the cat, who rarely left her hiding
spot these days. Her curiosity was rewarded with Harry’s slimy hands, grabbing for
her tail so he could force feed her pumpkin seeds. (She immediately retreated
to safety again.) While Harry had chased after the cat, James had carved a
snitch into the pumpkin. Lily dimmed the lights, and it was magic. They delighted in
Harry as he oohed and aahed at the “‘nich” in the pumpkin.
After dinner they all snuggled on the sofa in front of the fire.
Harry sat on his mum’s lap, tired out from the day’s activities, and she let
him try cider for the first time. He loved it, begged for more, until she cut
off him off at the third.
He’s not a tiny baby anymore, they agreed, and they feel hope
for the first time in a long time. The Charm had been the exhale for the breath
they didn’t realize they’d been holding in. They were still hiding, yes, but
they were safe, safer than they’d felt in nearly two years. Their relief was
palpable.
Their conversation turned to Christmas. What to get Harry? A
frog, perhaps, or a miniature Quaffle. Probably both. They discussed their own
favorite childhood traditions and narrowed down what they wanted to incorporate
for Harry this year, now that he was old enough to properly participate.
After an hour or so, Lily set Harry down to rinse the mugs out
in the sink. Harry made a dive for the pumpkin, twinkling on the hearth, but James
intercepted him, distracted him with puffs of smoke from his wand. The old
standby still worked, if only for a few minutes.
Lily watched them for a moment from the doorway. It had been a
lovely day, but Harry’s eyes were drooping even as he giggled. It was long past
his bedtime, and she announced as much to her son as she took him back in her
arms.
To her husband, she mentioned the bottle of wine she’d set out
on the counter and asked him to pour two glasses. They could carry on with
their own celebrations, couldn’t they, after she put their very happy, very
tired little boy to bed.
harry: does it hurt? dying?
ghost sirius: quicker than falling asleep
ghost severus behind a tree: says the one who wasnt brutally killed by a giant snake…
((OOC: My snake is the sneakiest little danger noodle there is. She’s named after my favorite lesbian witch and will soon turn 2 ½ years old. She’s escaped from her enclosure twice and looked equally guilty both times when I found her. She’s a little diva and I love her dearly 🐍))
Ouija Board: If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Lydia. Because 9/10 times I talk to people on the phone (which is every day) they just assume that’s my name. It would save me a lot of time.
Horror Flick: Do you like scary movies? If so, which one is your favorite?
I HATED them up until like a year ago so I’m really far behind in my horror watching. I’d probably say the new IT movie because of sentimental reasons and because I honestly haven’t watched all that many.
I’ll give you basically the only activity I do during the fall:. Hide from the rain, couch, tea, blankets, imitating a koala with severe attachment issues on my girlfriend, netflix and like 16 candles. I am a lazy person.
“People die. Monsters are made. That is the price of war.”
There is a spy in the Order of the Phoenix, and the wizarding war is more dangerous and deadly than it has ever been. There is a high price to pay for survival.
DoraTheMetamorphmagus 